four days to home...

Hey Everybody,
Today we had our first experience with 'errible "errrs" ("err" or something sort of like that being the Mandarin for "two". Our littlest did not get his nap today and this was not his beloved parents decision.
We arose a smidge earlier than normal today and had a relaxed breakfast with all the usual trimmin's. After a stint in the play room with some other very nice families and their beautiful children, we put on the kiddie rucksack and headed downtown for some shoppin' and to get Andrew some promised McDonalds; that being the closest that we can come to his much missed Taco Bell ("Dad, I dreamt last night that I had two soft tacos and a nacho-cheese chalupa). The baby backpack is noticeably heavier since we first put the fourth child in it. I'm thinkin' we need to cut down on the butter flavored pretzel sticks.
Anyway, we had a great morning shopping on Up and Down street and its associated nooks and crannies. We ate at McDonald's for lunch and had the upper floor to ourselves. We didn't even have to share it with the hum of the air conditioner, as that was not turned on for the "empty level." A manager (third string) came up and noticed that we were pouring out sweat faster than we could pour bottled water in and turned on the a/c as we were finishing. No worries, as this Mickey D's also serves ice cream...
Shopping here is not, of course, the same as going to Nordstrom's. For example, bargaining is expected. Not expected by Mari, of course, but expected none the less. Mari thinks that "these poor folks are working sooooo hard, so we should pay what they think is best", while Wade says "Forty cents for this mink coat?... don't try to swindle me, you soul-less pirate!" Although it might not need to be said, Wade fits in the commercial current a little better. Another way that shopping is not like Nordstrom's is that there is no assuaging the feelings of the customer. When Mari went to buy a couple of skirts, the girl working the "store" stre-eee-ee-ched the miniscule waistband to show Mari that it would fit her. "It big enough for you" is not the greatest come-on line ever. Lastly, the display item may, in fact, be the only item. We saw a couple of things that we liked and asked for them in Andrew/Patrick/Mackenzie/American size. After the "clerk" climbed up to the attic, we were told that the "display" was the only one they had in that style/color/pattern. In order to make up for this lack of inventory, they will always offer to sell us something completely different. The customer is always right...if cured of their delusions.
We did some other shopping after lunch (just to keep our muscles loose and toned) and then decided that we should head back to get Liam down for his nap. However, apparently the incense sticks in front of the Rain Buddha worked like a champ, because the skies opened up. We bought a couple of cheap umbrellas, but they didn't keep us all dry...especially Mari, who insisted on walking through the pudddles like a school girl on her way home.
After much cajoling, singing (Mari, not Wade as we didn't want the adjoining rooms to complain), and belly-rubbing (Liam), our little man would not fall asleep. Eventually, the white flag was thrown in the crib and he was paroled to the play room.
Even two hours of tackling stuffed Patrick the Starfish and Eeyores didn't take the edge off of Liam. When we needed to meet everyone else from CHI downstairs at 1730 for our "dinner cruise", he was still up. However, just like a nuclear reactor needs some water, Little Man also needs some nap time. The nuclear meltdown, henceforth known as the Guangzhou China Syndrome, occurred just prior to boarding the bus for dinner. Not quite reaching the Earth's core (for which you should all be grateful), fission ended just about the time that the buffet was served.
Buffet, of course, is a generous term, usually calling to mind lines of affable, if somewhat underexercised, Americans lining up for their turn to spoon up the corned beef hash. Buffet on a Guangzhou dinner cruise is a full contact sport, albeit without pads. Recall Mari's previous posts about this culture's non-existent need for personal space (and the general lack of "mmmm-mmm-good" of this buffet) and this made for a wonderful gastronomic experience. However, the wonderful view of the city lights and the ecstatic pointing by Liam more than made up for the fact that the boat didn't make the Michelin Guide.
All this fussiness didn't mean that Mr. T IV didn't make lots of friends. On the elevator down to the lobby (prior to our departure) he decided to say "hello" by patting a very large Nigerian man on the crotch....a couple of times. Our smiled introductions did a lot to aid international relations. While on the dinner boat, Liam made his normal goo-goo eyes and belly laughs at our neighboring table. He also was running along the side (not a gunwale, but hey, I'm in the Air Force, what do I know about nautical terms?) of the dining area and saying "hello" (by waving this time) and smacking their table. They gave the Little Dude an orange, which is the symbol of luck for the Mid-Autumn Festival (that begins tomorrow night). No one can resist the charms of L.J. Thompson!
After we got back to the White Swan, and a warm bath, Liam was primed to go down for the count. He sang a couple of his "going to sleep songs" (which may be the Cantonese versions of "Old Susanna" or "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring", who knows) and promptly crashed. We hope it is for a good long time. Mari and I bought a "delicious" bottle of Chilean merlot to enjoy while watching the artistic suffering of Andrew doing his homework...much better than "China's best" Great Wall Cabernet we had over Thanksgiving.
As we said at the top of the post, four more days. Not that we're counting...